


Fellow Traveler

by LtLJ



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-18
Updated: 2006-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-02 14:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtLJ/pseuds/LtLJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team meets an alien who may or may not be helpful. There are misunderstandings, and Wraith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fellow Traveler

Sitting in the jumper's cockpit, hovering above the open hatch down to the gate room, John really wished he had kept his mouth shut at the briefing. He didn't wish that often; not keeping his mouth shut was a lifestyle choice and he had made peace with the consequences a long time ago. But they had been in Atlantis for several months now, everybody had seen all the movies, read all the books -- those brought along as legitimate personal items and the ones smuggled in as files buried in databases -- and the only new entertainment was in torturing each other, and John had apparently volunteered for the barrel this morning.

From the jump seat behind him, in the voice he used when he was pretending to be reasonable, Rodney was saying, "Listen, I know you're xenophobic, and it's hardly surprising--"

"I am not xenophobic," John said, and tapped his headset. "Flight, Jumper One is go for launch."

The conversation had started that morning when Elizabeth had mentioned the linguistics team's research into some writing the archeologists had found on MX2-377. She had said the figures weren't similar to anything they had seen before, Ancient or human, and it could be a vaguely hopeful sign indicating that they might encounter even more kinds of sentient alien life here. John had said that he thought they had already encountered too much alien life as it was. Elizabeth had retorted that some allies like the Asgard wouldn't hurt, and Teyla had asked what they looked like. While Elizabeth was finding some images on her laptop, John had made the mistake of describing them as "creepy little gray things, about so high" which he was never going to hear the end of.

Rodney continued relentlessly, "--since if someone's first experience with an alien lifeform is getting stuck behind Teal'c in the commissary line at the SGC or seeing Thor drop in to visit O'Neill--"

John tried, "And this whole conversation is pointless, because even if there were Asgard in Pegasus, they would be--" he waved a hand vaguely "--their freak cannibal cousins who kill humans and wear our scalps for hats."

"Ouch," Ford commented.

Rodney hadn't paused for breath. "--it's obviously a vastly different effect on your perceptions than anything involving a hive ship and being pinned to a dinner table by a life-sucking vampire who wants to eat your entire species, but--"

"But they would not be cannibals," Teyla pointed out thoughtfully. "Since they are an entirely different species--"

"Yeah, not cannibals." Ford twisted around to look at her. "But the scalping thing would be--"

"--and you are the biggest xenophobe I've ever--"

"Shut up!" John shouted. "Not you, Flight; say again?"

"I said--" Peter Grodin's voice sounded fondly exasperated. "Jumper One is clear for launch. Good luck."

"Thanks, Flight. I'll need it."

It turned out John was right about that part.

***

The mission seemed to be going well for once. It was a gray rainy day on the planet, but the Enarian village was nestled in a valley between lush green forested hills and surrounded by acres of grain fields and vegetable gardens. The Athosians had never traded with the Enarians before, but they had heard good things about them from other trading partners, and it looked like, for once, the other trading partners had been right. This was fantastic, because Atlantis really needed the food.

First, the big crop of tava the Athosians had been expecting to harvest had been suddenly destroyed by the mainland's equivalent of locusts. It was part of the hit and miss aspect of trying to farm on an unfamiliar planet, and they would be prepared for it next year, but it had been a huge disappointment. It had actually caused Halling to lose his trademark Athosian resignation and stoicism long enough to swear and kick a water bucket. Then the big trading deal Stackhouse's team had scored with the Debians had fallen through when the town had been culled and the granaries had caught fire in the confusion afterward. They had decided to give the Debians the medical supplies anyway, because the survivors needed them so badly. Then Bates' team had been trying to bargain for a crop on Kelsa, only to discover that the only offer the Kelsans were interested in was what they could get for Bates and his Athosian trade advisor Selana on the local sex slave market. This had resulted in Bates and Selana bonding over beating the absolute crap out of a gang of overconfident Kelsans -- it had taken John the entire time he was gearing up to understand that they were scrambling backup not to break up a fight between Bates and Selana, but to get Bates and Selana out of a fight -- and team morale had apparently benefited from it overall. Kelsa had been firmly crossed off the list as a trading prospect, and Bates' science team advisor Dr. Baroukel had recommended locking it out of the dialing console, unless they had a deadly energy creature or an unstable naquadah generator they needed to get rid of.

All this had left Atlantis on rationing again, with only a month's supply of staples for the city and the Athosian encampment.

But it looked like this time they had actually scored. The Enarians had a high crop yield and often traded it for necessities and luxury goods they couldn't produce themselves. The village a few miles from the gate was accustomed to offworld visitors, and the people looked healthy and relatively happy, with kids playing in the muddy street and the little wooden thatched houses painted bright colors.

And nothing had gone wrong so far. The Enarians had responded well to the standard "we are peaceful explorers, allied with the Athosians" speech, and Teyla had seemed to develop an instant rapport with Biel, the village trade representative. John had managed to talk to the curious Enarians gathering in the street without accidentally propositioning anybody. Rodney had actually complimented the village. He had said _the hovels are really kind of nice, and it doesn't smell bad at all_ but hey, compliment, and Biel had only heard the words "kind of nice." The Enarians were friendly, relaxed, and open, and actually seemed to like them. And to like them in a "let's cooperate" way and not in a "let's pretend to cooperate while making plans to rape and murder them and take all their stuff" way.

The conversations were reassuringly normal for a small agrarian community in the Pegasus Galaxy, about crops and the lousy weather, with everyone gathering around to ask if their visitors had seen much evidence of Wraith culling on the worlds they had visited. One of the women, seeing how charmed the village kids were with John and Ford, asked if they had any children, but it seemed like idle curiosity, not some kind of a test. "No, ma'am," Ford said, smiling as he watched a toddler gnawing determinedly on a rag doll. "The Athosians -- Teyla's people -- have kids, but they don't live with us." He added soberly, "It's not safe right now."

John's nerves were a little on edge, still waiting for some innocuous comment to turn everybody against them, but the Enarians had all just nodded in glum understanding.

John was still keeping an eye on one of the villagers. The guy had been staring at them intently, more with suspicion than the idle curiosity of the others, and there was something about him that was a little off. He was tall and gangly, with a fluffy mane of nearly white hair, and he was dressed in the white and yellow robes that many of the women were wearing, rather than the pants and smocks of the other men. He was watching them with such intensity that John was half-expecting him to whip out a weapon when the guy tripped and fell in the village fountain.

"That is our friend, Liam," Biel explained quickly. "He also came to us through the Ring of Travel."

John retreated out of splash range as Liam sloshed out of the stone basin and stood dripping in the mud. Wringing the water out of his robe, Liam said to Teyla, "I hope you don't have any stupid trading customs, because we don't do that sort of thing here."

"Liam, why don't you go and check on the baking," Biel interposed hastily, while Teyla was still stymied for a reply.

Liam huffed, gathered his robes and stalked off. John shifted his assessment from "potential danger" to "village character." And really, if the Enarians were nice enough to adopt awkward strays who came through the gate, it was another sign that they were good people to deal with.

"Liam is a little different," Biel explained, looking a bit worried.

"We are accustomed to differences among our people," Teyla assured her gently.

"Really," Rodney muttered, mostly absorbed in taking energy readings. "I don't recall any incompetent transvestites with head injuries in our little community. Of course, there's Dr. Pierce in Biology, but I certainly wouldn't call him incompetent--"

John gave Rodney's shoulder a squeeze and a friendly shake, and said, equally low-voiced, "If you screw this up by insulting someone, I'm going to give you a head injury."

Rodney snorted in annoyance. "Please, my head is too valuable and you know it. Threaten something else if you want to be convincing."

Before John could move on to a better threat, Ford leaned in to ask incredulously, "Dr. Pierce is a man? Are you serious?" and the incident was forgotten.

After some initial bargaining in the street, Teyla and Biel and a few of the other women went into one of the huts to talk serious business. Apparently the only traditional custom they had regarding trading was that the women cut the deal while the men wandered around outside and goofed off. Anoch, the male village elder, showed them around a bit, and John relied heavily on Ford's ability to say things like "That's a really nice plow," with a straight face.

The first time Teyla emerged it was to inform John that the Enarians understood advanced technology, though they didn't have much left of it now. She had already made the tentative suggestion that the jumper could be used to haul any grain they traded for, and Biel had been enthusiastic at the idea.

"We used to have flying machines, too. And we had a big city over that way," Anoch explained, with a vague wave to the north. "It got blown up trying to fight off the last big Wraith culling, years and years ago, and now if anyone tries to live in it their skin falls off."

John lifted a brow at Rodney, who was already studying his equipment. Rodney waved a hand reassuringly. "I'm not picking up anything abnormal. The survivors of the original attack must have been highly aware of the minimum safe distance." Rodney frowned at the readout and asked Anoch sharply, "You don't use any technology now? No power sources?"

"No, not anymore. It's nice, and saves a lot of work," Anoch said regretfully. "But it does attract the Wraith."

"Yeah," John had to admit, "it really does."

More glum nods of agreement from the other villagers. "I'm getting an intermittent power reading," Rodney said, mostly to himself. "But it's not showing any of the characteristics of a ZPM field. It's almost a negligible amount of output. Huh. It might be something left over from the outlying support network for one of their cities...."

"Yeah, get right on that," John told him, as Rodney wandered off down the street, muttering to himself.

When it became clear that nothing more exciting was going to happen than Teyla and Biel hammering out the details of the trade, most of the village left to go back to their fields. Only the older men and women who watched the younger children or worked at crafts like pottery and weaving stayed behind. Anoch reappeared and sidled up to John and Ford with a jug of something he called mead. John didn't really think the old guy was up to anything, but after The Incident on M3X-587, they had all sworn off trying the local rotgut. "Uh, thanks, but we can't," John said, smiling politely as Ford backed warily away. He jerked his head in Teyla's general direction. "Duty, you know."

"Right, I know what you mean," Anoch said, casting a glance around to make sure none of the women were watching before he knocked back a snort.

Teyla came out later to give John a handful of dried arum kernels to inspect. Biel and two other Enarian women waited politely out of earshot, watching anxiously. This was a bargaining technique Teyla used when the occasion warranted it, casting John as the bad cop whose approval she had to get in order to make the deal. John wasn't sure Biel was buying it, but she looked happy enough to go through the motions. "Looks good," he told Teyla, keeping his expression mildly critical. "This is food, right?"

Teyla gave him an indulgent smile. "It can be boiled and eaten as it is, or ground into flour. Dried, it can last for many months, and is very nutritious. It is exactly what we need." She sounded highly satisfied with herself, and he suspected she had just come out here to brag. "The Enarians are much troubled by infections caused by injuries during the harvest and while hauling the grain. They are very interested in the antiseptics and topical antibiotics we can offer."

From her expression, John suspected she was cutting a deal that was going to make Elizabeth giddy with relief, Halling bust out a grin, and Bates seethe with jealousy. He smiled at her. "Go for it."

She nodded, mock-solemn, as the Enarian women bounced excitedly. She added thoughtfully, "I may have to throw in a knife-sharpener," and headed back inside with the others.

Ford leaned in to examine the multi-colored kernels, pointing out, "It looks like corn."

"It does." Their eyes met in speculation.

Ford's brows lifted. "You think it would pop like--"

"Maybe," John allowed cautiously. "Don't say anything to McKay. If it doesn't work, we'll never hear the end of it."

The next time Teyla stepped out for a status report, she had been in the process of locking down a deal for enough arum flour and toba root to get them through the next six months, plus seed for the Athosians to start their own crops. John sent Ford back to the jumper to dial into Atlantis and tell them to start moving the crates of the medical supplies the labs had manufactured for trade into the gate room. They had been invited to stay for dinner, and he was hoping to have the first shipments received and delivered before then.

Rodney wandered up at that point, having finally come out of his energy reading trance. John asked, "Find anything?"

"I had some more anomalous readings, but they're too erratic to track down." He grimaced in a preoccupied way, tapping the detector against his hand. "It could just be a scanning error."

John nodded solemnly. "Right, it must be the Ancient blinky tool at fault."

Rodney glared absently. "Whatever. Any chance we can wrap things up here in Hobbiton by the end of this century? I'm anxious to get past the standing around portion of our day and on into the exhausting manual labor part."

John lifted a brow. "If lifting a few crates and baskets of grain into a jumper is going to kill you--"

Rodney perked up. "Yes?"

"I'm sure the Enarians will be willing to spring for a nice funeral."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, and your oh-so-quirky sense of humor is usually why...."

He trailed off as Teyla came out of the hut. John knew immediately something was wrong. Her shoulders were tense and her face was grim. She crossed the muddy little plaza toward them with determined strides, and said, "The deal is ended, Major. Biel says they will not trade with us." She was fighting to keep her expression under control, but her voice was bitter and upset.

"What happened?" Rodney asked, startled. "Did they want something disgusting?" He frowned at John. "Did you accidentally offer to marry somebody again?"

"No! McKay, shut up." John looked down Teyla. "What's wrong?"

"I am not certain," Teyla said stiffly. Biel had come out of the hut after her and stood a short distance away, almost wringing her hands, looking as upset as Teyla. "I have offered as much of the medicines as the lab can produce."

"You want more?" John asked Biel. He hoped this was the Enarians' version of a bargaining tactic and Teyla was just taking it the wrong way. Except Teyla didn't take things the wrong way, ever. "We have to get the materials to make them, and it takes time--"

"No, no, the amount offered was more than generous." Biel shifted uncomfortably.

John was hyperaware of the other Enarians gathering around, but it didn't feel like an ambush. The few older people who had stayed for the trading all seemed as baffled by this development as John, and nobody was armed. Anoch was looking at Biel as if he thought she had gone completely crazy. John asked, "You want something else? Because we pretty much need everything else we have to survive." They had had people try bait and switch deals before, pretending to want the medical supplies only to ask for weapons at the last minute. After the Genii, they weren't making that mistake again.

Biel said hurriedly, "No, nothing like that."

"Okay." John felt like he was running out of options here. "Do you want proof that we have the drugs?" he tried, holding onto his patience with effort. "That they're good? Because we can arrange that."

Biel winced. "Again, that is very generous. It is just that...we cannot trade with you."

"But why?" Teyla asked, letting her frustration show. "I thought we had an understanding-- If there is something I have said that upset you--"

"No, it is nothing like that," Biel said quickly.

"So what changed, what did we do?" John asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he was beginning to feel.

Biel just shrugged miserably. "It is a question of...trust."

Teyla's eyes went hard. "Trust?"

"What, you don't trust us?" Rodney demanded. "All we're asking for is food and seeds. What do you think we're going to do with it besides eat it and plant it?"

"I am sorry," Biel said, and she did sound sorry, which was just that much more exasperating.

John tried his best to sound reasonable. "We've explained why we travel with weapons. The last trading trip our people went on, they almost ended up being sold as slaves." He added, "Look, just tell us what you want, and we'll see what we can do."

"I am sorry," Biel repeated, avoiding his eyes, "But there can be no agreement. That is our final answer."

It looked final. The others were still obviously puzzled but nobody broke ranks to argue with her. Feeling helpless, John swore under his breath. He exchanged a grim look with Teyla and said, "Right, let's go home." _And tell them that Atlantis Recon-1 has snatched defeat from the jaws of victory once again. We suck at this._ And he didn't have a fucking clue why.

"I am sorry," Teyla said suddenly, looking up at him. She still had her calm expression, but it didn't conceal her bitter disappointment. "I know you depend on my skills, and my people's trading contacts, and I feel I have failed--"

"It's not you," John told her. "Obviously. You didn't have these problems before you guys joined us--" He didn't want to have this conversation in front of the people who had just so abruptly shown them the door. He squeezed Teyla's shoulder. "Let's get out of here."

Biel took a step toward them. "Please, I hope this will not cause you trouble." She hesitated. "I know Anoch had invited you to eat with us, and if you still wish to stay...."

That was about all John could take at the moment. He gave her a bitter smile and said, "No, thanks. We need to get home so we can get started starving to death with the rest of our people. Bye," and started away.

They walked out of the village in silence and started down the hill, through the field of tall grass and scrubby trees. Rodney said, "Is it just me, or does it seem like we finally met normal people, and they rejected us out of hand?"

"It's not just you." John keyed his radio and said, "Ford, is the gate still open?"

Ford's reply came in a burst of static. "Yes, sir. I told them to get the--"

"Tell them to forget it, the deal's off. We're on our way back, we'll meet you at the jumper."

There was a brief silence, then Ford muttered, "Crap." Obviously deciding that questions wouldn't be welcome at the moment, he added, "Yes, sir."

John signed off. Teyla shook her head wearily, saying, "I have never had a negotiation fail at such a point before. It is...discouraging."

"It just came out of nowhere?" John asked.

"We had agreed on the trade almost immediately, and the discussion only concerned amounts and when deliveries would occur. It was very casual -- or at least it seemed so. Biel left the room several times." Teyla added grimly, "There must have been a conversation that I was not privy to."

"Are you sure you didn't do anything?" Rodney asked John suspiciously.

"I'm sure." John glared at him. "Did you insult anybody?"

"Oh please, of course not. I was working on that energy reading. No one even said anything to me. I suppose they could tell I was busy." He threw a look back over his shoulder, his mouth twisted. The village was almost obscured by trees and the tall grasses lining the path now. "They were very polite."

He was right, they had been polite. And not fake creepy polite, like the Genii. John shook his head. If they couldn't even manage a deal with the people who practically ran the supermarket for this part of the Pegasus Galaxy, he didn't know what the hell they were going to do.

Running footsteps sounded behind them on the path and John and Teyla spun, lifting their P-90s. Rodney fell back a step, dropping a hand to his sidearm.

It was the weird gangly guy, Liam. He slid to an uncoordinated halt, lifting his hands. "Easy, easy. It must be obvious I'm unarmed," he said huffily.

John eyed him narrowly, though he had trouble imagining that the Enarians had sent the village eccentric to kill them. "What do you want?"

Liam countered with, "Why didn't you say you were Lantians?"

_Okay, that's a surprise._ John said carefully, "Because we're not Lantians."

Liam gestured airily. "You've got a Lantian ship. Even if you stole it, which I suppose you must have--"

Teyla said, "We are not thieves." Her voice was like icy granite. Athosians took accusations of stealing only slightly less serious than accusations of cooperating with the Wraith, and Teyla was having a really lousy day. "And we have wasted enough time with people who pretend to want a trading agreement only to change their minds like fickle children. Say what you came to say plainly, please, so we may go in peace."

Liam at least looked guilty. He said defensively, "Only Lantians can use Lantian technology."

Teyla lifted a brow, her expression shifting from grim to speculative. John exchanged a look with Rodney. They were all thinking the same thing, and Rodney really wanted to blurt it out and demand an answer now. John stared him down, willing him to keep his mouth shut, and Rodney subsided with a glare and a strangled "humph."

John looked at Liam deliberately. "We told you, we're peaceful explorers. The Lantians lived on the planet we originally came from, a long time ago. That's why we can use their ships."

"Oh." Liam did a little flouncing thing that made it very difficult to view him as a potential danger. "Why didn't you say so, then?"

"I don't know. Maybe because nobody asked?"

Teyla began, "Is that why you--" She froze for an instant, her eyes going wide. "Wraith."

"Close?" John scanned the sky, tapping his headset. "Ford, we've got Wraith. Ford?" Static was the only answer.

"Yes, very close," Teyla said, her hands tightening on the P-90 as she looked up at the cloudy sky.

"Oh, God." Rodney yanked the lifesigns detector out of his vest. "There are readings all around us, but I can't tell which are Wraith and which are Enarians."

It was at that point they noticed Liam had just pulled a device very similar to the lifesigns detector out of his robes. "I can't see the darts, but there's a ship in orbit--" Liam looked up and saw their expressions, which were startled, incredulous, and beginning to be very pissed off. He said brightly, "I suggest we run now, and debate this later."

"Go," John said grimly and they ran for the trees. Liam bolted the other way, back toward the village, bellowing a warning.

"That scanner he had was Ancient," Rodney panted. "That explains the intermittent reading I was picking up--"

"Later," John said. Then he heard the culling beam. He yelled a warning, shoved Rodney sideways, and that was the last thing he remembered.

***

John woke to people screaming. He blinked, staring at a dark ceiling arching overhead, draped with shrouds and strands of web. The sick stench of death and rot was heavy in the damp air and he felt the tingling numbness in his arms and legs that meant he had been hit with a Wraith stunner. Sticky strands of something was stuck to his arms and legs and the back of his head, tying him to the floor, resisting his first panicked jerk. He added all that up and said, with feeling, "Oh, crap."

"Major...."

"Rodney?" John made a huge effort, twisting to put as much torque into it as possible, and managed to rip his head free of the sticky web. He craned his neck, squinting to see. Rodney lay just a few feet away, moving sluggishly on the filthy floor. They were in a small dim room, off an open corridor. There were drapes of material like ragged skin, dark walls covered with a rubbery organic substance, the webs, two skeletons cocooned against the wall. _Uh huh,_ John thought, _there's really no mistaking where we are._ "You okay?"

"No, actually. Where are--" John heard the moment when realization hit. Rodney's voice changed from dazed annoyance to pure dread. "Oh God."

"Rodney, don't panic--"

"That is the stupidest thing you've ever said," Rodney hissed, "because if there was ever, ever, a situation that called for panic--"

"Rodney, I need you not to panic," John said, gritting his teeth. There was no one else in this room with them, though he could hear ragged desperate screams and sobbing from down the corridor. He suppressed the impulse to yell for Teyla and Ford. Teyla had ducked in the other direction, and the beam might have missed her. Ford had been close to the gate, and could have escaped if he had had any warning at all.

John could feel the webbing on the skin of his throat, clinging like really disgusting and supernaturally strong spun sugar. He swallowed down a surge of terror and made himself say evenly, "Do you have a hand free?"

He heard Rodney take a deep sobbing breath. "No, I-- Wait, yes. I wasn't-- It's not stuck all the way, like they didn't finish."

"Try to get loose. Do you have any weapons?" John asked, concentrating every muscle on trying to rip his arm free. His tac vest, jacket, sidearm, and belt were gone, though he had the rest of his clothes. Wraith usually stripped their captives before webbing them up, and John had only seen people cocooned to walls and in cubbies, not on the floor. It was like they had been temporarily secured in the first handy spot, until the Wraith were finished with the others.

"No, no vest, no gun. Why aren't we-- You know." Rodney must have come to the same conclusion. His voice was shaky but he sounded focused, and John could see him wriggling to try to free himself. "It's like they just stuck us here out of the way. Why would they do that?"

"Uh." It was either because the Wraith wanted to question them, or because they were first up on the menu. Actually, it was probably both. But it was another indication that Teyla and Ford hadn't been captured, or they would be in here stuck to the floor too. "If they found the jumper--"

"Never mind, I don't want to know. The horrible possibilities are mounting up fast enough without--" Rodney gasped with effort and managed to lift his head. "--without any help."

There really shouldn't be this much screaming. John levered his arm up enough that he could look at his watch. "We've been out for almost an hour. Something's wrong. They should have finished cocooning everybody by now." He winced as the disjointed sobbing of someone down the corridor suddenly scaled up into a terrified shriek. "Everyone should be unconscious."

"Maybe they stopped for lunch. Oh, wait." Rodney's voice had a hysterical edge. "That would be us."

John got his arm loose up to the shoulder and dug in a pocket, finding the small folding knife the Wraith had overlooked. He managed to get it open and tried sawing at the webbing, but it was like trying to cut rope with plastic. He shoved the knife back in his pocket with a curse and went back to just tearing at the stuff. He said reasonably, "I prefer to think that something's gone wrong and--"

John caught a blue and white flash from the corridor as something tore down it, slamming aside webbing and ragged shrouds, going up the wall as it passed out of sight. Heavy footsteps shook the deck panels as two Wraith drones pounded after it. Stunner fire echoed down the corridor.

"Okay, you're right, something's wrong," Rodney whispered. "What the hell was that?"

"It wasn't human. It was on the ceiling." John freed his other arm and managed to wrench himself up into a sitting position. _ Some kind of animal got into the ship?_ That was a just a little too bizarre.

More stunner fire came from further away, muffled by distance and bulkheads. John caught another glimpse of movement and looked up in time to see the shrouds overhead tremble as something large crawled rapidly under them.

"Oh, great." John tore frantically at the webbing on his legs, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. With their luck it would be some kind of predator symbiotic to Wraith ships, like rats on a sailing ship. Something that fed on trapped humans.

Then a voice from the ceiling said, "It's me."

John froze. He looked at Rodney, who mouthed the words, "Did you hear that?"

John nodded, eyes on the shadows overhead, trying to see which one was talking to them.

Looking up, Rodney raised his voice slightly. "What?"

It landed on the floor between them with a light thump. Rodney made a strangled yelp and John jerked back so hard he almost managed to yank a leg free. It was big, bright blue, with a wild tangle of white hair, and it looked like a combination of goblin and the salt vampire from _Star Trek_, except it seemed to be wearing its skeleton on the outside.

It looked from John to Rodney and back, taking in their horrified expressions. "Oh, come on. I thought you were from an advanced culture!" It folded its arms, apparently offended.

"Oh, my God," Rodney said slowly. "That voice."

It said, "Yes, it's me. Liam. Oh, by the way, I'm not human. Happy now?"

"What the fuck are you?" John demanded. He couldn't even tell how it was talking. It had sucker pads where its mouth should be.

"As if the name of my species would make any difference." Liam shifted uncomfortably, his body language still vaguely human despite the wildly different anatomy. "Obviously, I can change my physical structure--"

"Like a werewolf." Okay, that wasn't the word John wanted.

"A shapechanger," Rodney corrected warily, managing to lever himself up on one elbow. "Shapeshifter. Whatever. Is everyone in the village like this?"

"Of course not! They're ordinary humans, like you, except apparently more intelligent." Liam waved its hands in the air agitatedly. It made a weird kind of sense. As a human Liam had been awkward in a way that had read as discomfort in his own body. But that hadn't been his body. "Now listen, I lost cohesion in the culling beam, so they didn't know what I was. I've been delaying them but this isn't a large ship and I can't keep it up forever. And we all want to get our people out of here before we're all eaten, correct?"

Rodney threw a look at John, who agreed cautiously, "Right."

Liam fixed its inhuman eyes on the corridor, distinctly uncomfortable. It had eight-fingered hands, John realized, with little twisty feelers on each fingertip, which must have something to do with its ability to cling to the walls and ceiling. "I may be able to help bring that about, if I can get something from a Wraith."

John's eyes narrowed. It didn't sound like it -- he -- it was talking about a weapon. "Something like what?"

Liam made that fluttery gesture again, made very disturbing by the feelers. "Blood, preferably. Skin or even hair, though that will be more problematic--"

"You're talking about DNA. Genetic material," John said. He had the feeling he wasn't going to like where this was going.

"Oh." Liam sniffed, deflating a little. "You know what that is?"

"We're vaguely familiar with the concept, yes," Rodney prompted impatiently. "What are you going to do with it?"

"If I have a sample of their genetic material, I can turn into a Wraith." Liam nodded earnestly, as if this was a good thing.

John stared at Liam, then at Rodney. "Are we actually having this conversation?"

"Apparently so," Rodney agreed, his expression caught between academic interest and horror. "This is very surreal. It must think we're really stupid."

"How so?" Liam asked, apparently genuinely baffled.

"What do you mean, how--" John heard running in the corridor. "They're coming."

Liam made a muffled eek noise and leapt for the ceiling.

Rodney dropped his head and John flopped back down, just in time. He kept his eyes slitted open and watched two drones stalk past, heading the other way.

When they were gone, Liam dropped back to the floor. "So are you going to help me or not?" he demanded in a stage whisper that could probably be heard at the other end of the ship.

John levered himself up into a sitting position again. "Help you turn into a Wraith?" He just wanted to be clear on that point. "And what's going to stop you from eating us and joining them?"

Liam actually sputtered in outrage. "Moral principles, to start with! And I won't be anatomically correct, there's no point in that! Come on, I need your help!"

"I don't know if you've noticed," Rodney pointed out acidly, "but we're a little tied up right now."

"This isn't even a hive ship or cruiser, it's a small scout." Liam reached for the webbing on Rodney's legs and Rodney wrenched backward with a yelp.

"Get off," John snarled, stretching forward to knock its hands away.

"What's the problem?" Liam demanded impatiently.

"Are you serious?" Rodney said in exasperation, "The problem is, the only other person we've run into so far in this galaxy who recognized a puddlejumper and knew about Lantian technology was a ten thousand year old Wraith. Obviously you were using Ancient technology to scan us, causing the intermittent power readings I was picking up. And you were in the process of kicking us out of the Enarian village when this happened. Why should we trust you? And why do you need our help?" He gestured wildly, as best he could while still mostly stuck to the floor. "Why don't you just turn into something that can kill all the Wraith on the ship?"

John had been wondering about that, too. But Liam hissed, "Because I need genetic material! I've been living on Enar for the past hundred years and all I've got left is this, human, and strange tentacled creature from the bulroot swamp. It's a rather limited repertoire!"

John watched Liam narrowly. "Why were you with the Enarians?"

Liam sighed. "Long story short, my species was destroyed by the Wraith generations ago, I live with humans because I have no other choice, and can we just get on with it?"

"You needed human blood to look like a human," John persisted, "do you kill people to get it?"

"Yes, the people of Enar are so abysmally stupid that they never noticed the pile of dead bodies outside my house--"

"Just answer the simple, vitally important question," Rodney grated out the words.

Liam did an eye-rolling thing that in that alien face was truly frightening. "I only need a tiny sample. And I don't use blood as a source of human genetic material anyway."

"Then what do you use?" Rodney asked pointedly.

Liam huffed. "Let's think. What's the best possible source of human genetic material that is endlessly renewable, painlessly obtainable, and makes you a lot of friends?"

John felt his jaw drop. Rodney winced, waving his free hand in the universal sign for too much information. "Oh, my God. That's disgusting enough to be true." He shook his head, mouth twisted. "Okay. We'll help you. What do you need?"

"What?" John stared at him. "McKay, are you out of your mind?"

"Why not? What other choice have we got?" Rodney glared frantically. "Stop looking at me like that! It's this wide-eyed, tragic, 'Oh God, we're trapped on a Wraith ship and Rodney's insane.' Now it's worse!"

"I just need a distraction." Liam looked at the corridor, wringing its hands. "I can't get close to them -- I've been trying, but this form isn't exactly designed for combat. And do you have anything to cut with?"

Rodney started searching his pockets as best he could. "Major--"

"Son of a bitch, fine, fine, okay!" John held up the little knife. "This is our only weapon and you want me to give it the alien thing -- guy -- whatever?"

"Yes!" Rodney snarled, "And don't make it sound like such a stupid idea, and that's a crappy weapon!"

Liam twisted to face the corridor, weirdly graceful in this body. "They're coming back! Just make a decision, can't you?"

"This sucks," John said, mostly to himself. "Here, take it." He tossed Liam the knife and added, "McKay, play dead."

Liam snatched the knife out of the air, lightning quick, and leapt for the ceiling. Rodney, maddeningly at this point, whispered, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, dammit," John snapped.

Rodney slumped back, feigning unconsciousness, just before the Wraith stepped around the corner. There were two of them, a male and a big masked drone. _And the plan goes to hell already,_ John thought, rolling his eyes. Liam would hardly be able to stab one with the other looking on.

The male Wraith leaned down and grabbed John's arm, ripping him out of the rest of the webbing as if it was insubstantial cobweb and nearly dislocating his shoulder in the process. John threw a punch at it and the slap he got in return rocked his head back so hard his eyes nearly crossed. The backhand follow-up made his knees buckle and it caught him by the hair, yanking him off his feet. He clawed at its arm, kicked furiously, but it dragged him down the corridor, the drone following.

He got a brief view of the bigger chamber where they were webbing up the Enarians, like a brief glimpse of hell. The walls were covered with webbed forms, trapped and cocooned, but there were about twenty people backed into a corner by three Wraith drones with stunners. There were more people sprawled on the floor, still semi-conscious from the culling beam. John fought harder, trying to see more, on the off chance that Teyla or Ford was among them. He got punched in the head again and spent the rest of the short trip bumping along the floor and seeing stars.

Through another door, down a short corridor and into another smaller chamber. John got a glimpse of a table made of the same dark rubbery material as the walls, then the Wraith flung him across the room. He bounced off a wall and hit the floor. Stunned, tasting blood from a bitten lip, John managed to push himself up on his hands and knees. He heard the Wraith say, "This one came with the Lantian ship."

He lifted his head. There was another drone in the room, guarding a woman huddled against the wall. Blinking to clear his vision, John recognized Biel. Her robe was torn, hair tumbled over her face, her expression terrified. She stared at John for a moment, then said, "No, no." She shook her head furiously. "No one came with the ship, it's old, it's always been there."

The drone reached down for her and John said quickly, "I was with the ship."

The Wraith hissed in satisfaction. "That creature. Where did it come from?"

"I'll tell you, but not in front of them," John said, and thought, _this plan really couldn't be any worse._ If Liam had even followed him down here, it still might not attack the Wraith, even if John could get the drones sent away. This was a terrible plan hinging on the whim of a demented blue alien shapechanger and John knew he was going to die without even being able to tell Rodney "I told you so."

The Wraith apparently thought humans were just this stupid. It looked at the drones. One grabbed Biel's arm, dragging her up as they left. Biel looked back at John, baffled and frightened, before she was jerked out of the room. Then the Wraith said, "The creature?"

John looked up at it, giving it a puzzled expression. "What creature?"

The Wraith grabbed him by the throat, yanking him upright and slamming him down on his back on the table.

It was holding him just hard enough to restrict his air but not crush the life out of him. He clawed at its hand, tried to kick it in the chest and it caught his leg under the knee, holding him easily. It said, "You brought it on the Lantian ship."

"What ship?" John managed to gasp. The Wraith must teach classes in how to strangle just hard enough without actually crushing the life out of their prey. They all seemed to have the same technique.

Its lips curled back in that Wraith imitation of a smile, revealing sharp teeth. "Defiance tastes sweet, better than fear."

"Do you have a different 'I'm going to eat you' speech because I hear that one a--" It turned into a wheeze as John's air was cut off again.

"Tell me where that creature came from."

Then a big blue shape leapt on its back, sinking John's knife into its throat. The Wraith snarled and spared one hand to fling it off. Liam flew across the room and slammed into the wall with a loud splat, falling out of John's field of vision. The Wraith stared after it with an expression of baffled rage, the wound on its neck barely bleeding. John wrenched his other leg free and kicked it in the face, struggling to reach the stunner at its belt.

It turned back, slapping his hands away. Its grip on his throat tightened and it planted a hand on his chest.

Then another Wraith appeared behind it, snatching the stunner out of its holster. It twisted, snarling, just in time to get the blast in its face.

John rolled off the table and hit the floor as the Wraith -- the real Wraith -- collapsed.

John couldn't look up for a moment, coughing to re-inflate his lungs. When he managed to lift his head, Liam was looking around the little compartment, tearing shrouds aside, poking at the walls. He could tell it was Liam by the fluttery body language, as at odds with the Wraith body as it had been with the human and the blue goblin thing. It said frantically, "They don't have any weapons in here. Stupid creatures. What do they do if someone tries to take over their ship?" It glanced around as John staggered to his feet. "How do I look?"

John grabbed the table to keep himself upright. "Like a Wraith." When Liam stood still, it was uncanny. Liam was even dressed like the Wraith now sprawled on the floor. John couldn't tell if it was all physical, or all illusion, or what. The other difference was in the eyes. They were the right color, the right shape for a Wraith, but there was too much expression.

Liam said, "Well, it's not any more amenable from the inside, believe me, so let's hurry."

John spat blood out on the table, wiped his mouth, and said, "We need to get back to McKay, then take over the bridge. If they have any kind of intruder control system, it'll be up there."

"Oh, that's a good idea." Liam brightened, and it was beyond weird to see actual expressions on a Wraith's face.

John stared at it. "What, you didn't have a plan?"

Liam planted its hands on its hips. "I'm a toba root farmer, not a space pirate. This," it gestured to itself, "was the plan."

"Oh, good." John pushed off from the table. That was just the icing on the cake. He eyed the stunner that Liam was waving around, but they wouldn't look very convincing if John was carrying it. "Let's go."

Out in the corridor, John had to say, "You should drag me, in case one of them sees us."

"Oh, right. And you should struggle more. Ow, ow, not that much!"

"For a Wraith, you're kind of a wimp," John felt compelled to point out.

"Excuse me, I'm seven hundred vesters old and I haven't done this sort of thing in a long time."

John had yet another a bad feeling about this. "How old is that in human years? "

"Let's say I'm the equivalent of your great-grandfather, poppet, so don't get too rough."

_Fantastic. We can't run into an alien shapechanger with superpowers; we have to find one who's retired, geriatric, and a little nuts._ They were getting near the hold area again. The screaming hadn't died down any. "What happens if you get stunned?"

"I'll lose cohesion." Liam peered around the corner with an exaggerated caution that was straight out of a Keystone Cops routine. "I assume they aren't going to be so stupid about it if it happens again. The first time they just left me in a puddle on the floor. These creatures have no scientific curiosity. Fortunately."

_Fortunately is right._ John gritted his teeth. "Try to look confident, take long steps, don't stop."

One of the drones glanced at them as they passed. John dragged his feet and tried to seem dazed. Fortunately, he didn't have to fake looking like a Wraith had just beat the shit out of him. He caught a glimpse of Biel huddled with the others, saw her eyes widen, startled and hopeful, then she quickly looked away. _She recognized him,_ John thought, startled. It was confirmation that Liam wasn't lying, that the Enarians had known what he was. And also confirmation that Liam made the most unconvincing Wraith possible.

As soon as they were in the corridor John couldn't stand it anymore and took charge of the stunner. Liam handed it over willingly, adding, "I'm not very good with firearms."

Somehow that wasn't a surprise.

They reached the right room and John whispered, "Rodney."

"Major?" Rodney sat up, peering uncertainly in the dark. He had managed to free himself from more of the webbing. "Oh God, is that--"

"Yes, it's me," Liam said, hovering anxiously in the corridor. "I thought we'd established that."

Rodney stared, squinting in the dark. "It worked. I never thought it would work, I thought--"

"I wasn't real confident either," John told him, dropping to his knees to tear at the rest of the web.

"Oh, please feel free to critique my performance," Liam contributed.

"Your voice is wrong," Rodney pointed out immediately, wrenching a leg free of the webbing. "You don't sound like a Wraith."

"I don't?" Liam stared at him.

"You can't tell? You sound like you're auditioning for an amateur drag show."

Liam said, snippily, "I'm assuming that's not a compliment. I register sound in a different way from humans, so I supposed my voice has never been normal; of course, no one's ever been rude enough to mention it before--"

John suppressed an urge to shoot both of them and just said, "Shut up."

"Are you talking to me or--"

"Rodney!"

He got Rodney free and helped him to his feet. Liam was saying, "The Wraith send these ships out to report on feeding grounds. From the look of it, the hold was almost empty of humans before they grabbed all of us, so this is probably a resupply stop."

"Then they saw the jumper when we uncloaked it and decided to make a party of it." John hadn't missed the fact that Liam had actually included itself as a human there. But after so many years, maybe the distinctions started to blur. "Do you know where the bridge is?"

"I'm fairly certain it's up this way." Liam wandered a little vaguely off down the corridor.

"He's fairly certain," Rodney echoed, sounding simultaneously horrified and annoyed. "He's been running around the ship for an hour, how could he not know--"

John caught Rodney's arm. "The way he's doing these changes, that's not physically possible, right? Is it an illusion?"

Rodney shook his head. "I don't think so. And I don't think it's a biological phenomenon, like a chameleon changing its skin color. I think he's actually rearranging matter in the space occupied by his body. His species must have been incredibly powerful."

John moved to catch up with Liam, who was flattened up against the wall at the next corner, apparently trying to figure out a way to peer around it. "I'm not sure I can buy that right now. Maybe later."

They got the first drone in the next corridor. It walked right up to Liam, who was far more convincing standing still than moving or talking. Then it cocked its head as if it had noticed something wrong, and John ducked out from around the corner and shot it. It had been armed with a stunner rifle and a smaller hand model; John took the rifle, gave his hand stunner to Rodney and reluctantly, the other one to Liam.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rodney asked, with an eye roll toward Liam.

Liam admitted, "I'm not a very good shot."

"It's a stunner," John explained, mostly patiently. "It doesn't matter what else you hit, as long as you get the Wraith."

Liam brightened. "Oh, that's right!"

Rodney glared at him skeptically. "Are you being sarcastic?"

Liam folded his arms. "Of course I am."

John shook his head, wishing hysteria was a luxury he could afford. "Just come on."

There was another drone guarding the foyer near the hatchway to the bridge. Liam lured it into the corridor by staring intently at it and they took it down, leaving the bridge entrance open and unguarded.

John motioned for Rodney to hang back, to watch the foyer. Rodney nodded rapidly. John looked at Liam, who was scratching his head with the muzzle of his stunner. He had been a Wraith for something under half an hour and the silky gray-white hair was already a tangled mess. There had to be a better way to do this. John just wished he could think of it, whatever it was. "You're going to follow me in there and help, right?" he said quietly.

"Oh yes," Liam nodded earnestly. "In there, right?"

Behind Liam, Rodney knocked his head against the wall in silent despair. "Right," John said, for lack of any better options, "Let's go."

John flung himself through the hatchway and hit the floor, already firing at the two outraged Wraith glaring at him. The room was triangular, as featureless as the rest of the ship's interior except there were two consoles standing on a raised center dais, each supported by weirdly organic-looking stalks. John pumped enough shots into the first Wraith to drop it but the second was three paces away from him when Liam tackled it from behind. It still managed to hook a clawed hand into John's leg before John fired into its head. It went limp.

His heart pounding, John pried the claws out of his pantsleg. "Liam, you were supposed to shoot!"

"It was moving!" Liam struggled to his feet, as graceful as a drunken Wraith with inner ear problems. "You're lucky I was able to throw my body at it."

Rodney ducked into the room, ripping open the rubbery material over the wall. "I shot a drone -- there's more coming!"

John rolled to his feet and went to cover the door. A scatter of shots kept the drones back in the corridor, but it looked like the rest of the crew was on to them now.

Rodney got the wall open and worked hastily at the door controls. Finally a heavy blast door slid down and he stepped back with a gasp of relief. "That should keep them out. For a while, anyway."

"Find the intruder control before they get smart and start using the Enarians as hostages." John put another couple of stunner bolts into the Wraith sprawled on the floor, just to be on the safe side. There were no handy hiding spots in the room for other Wraith, and none lurking on the ceiling. One wall was covered by a flat glassy surface, opaque as obsidian, that might be a viewscreen.

"Yes, fine, but no pressure!" Rodney snapped, heading for the dais.

Liam was already up there, studying the consoles. They were triangular too, with milky glass bubbles instead of crystal touchpads like the Ancient equipment. Liam bent over one, frowning, saying, "The wily creature locked the controls, and I suppose if we were as lacking in initiative as it thought we were, that would be an impediment." It flexed its long fingers, running its hand over the glowing bubbles. "Hmm. My anatomy may not be accurate enough."

"The sensors are looking for the feeding...apparatus," Rodney said, watching him carefully. "It can't read you as Wraith without it."

"Yes." Liam appeared oblivious to the suspicious scrutiny. "Do you both have the Lantian gene?"

Rodney gave John a shove forward. "He does."

Liam absently waggled clawed fingers. "Come here, poppet."

"Don't call me that." John stepped up to the console reluctantly, trying to ignore the fact that Liam's proximity was making his skin creep.

"Then how will you know when I'm talking to you?" Liam said reasonably. "Put your hand on that bubble-thing there."

"Ancients could activate Wraith technology?" Rodney stepped up to the console, looking over John's shoulder.

The Wraith outside were doing something to the hatch, causing a rhythmic pounding.

"Yes. I don't know how it came about, or really much of anything about it." Liam sounded like they had all the time in the world to chat about it. "But the Wraith were never able to lock them out of their systems. Though the Wraith certainly weren't able to use Lantian technology."

"How did you find out about it in the first place?" Rodney asked.

"I had the Lantian gene for a while, a long, long time ago," Liam said absently, manipulating the controls. "I never could do much with it. It wore off over the years. There, I think that's got it."

The rest of the bubbles lit up, and the glossy flat section in the middle of the console lit up with a screen of readouts.

Rodney shouldered John aside, asking Liam, "Can you read Wraith?"

"I'm a little rusty," Liam admitted.

Rodney exchanged a long-suffering look with John. _Yeah,_ John thought, stepping back, _That's what he said about the stunners._ He waited impatiently as Rodney and Liam studied the console and carefully prodded various controls. Rodney's occasional shouts of "Not that one!" weren't encouraging.

"Here it is," Rodney said finally. "Intruder control. It's a stun, activated by units in the walls, the same variety as their weapons and the culling beam. It'll saturate the entire ship except for the bridge, leaving everyone unconscious but unharmed."

"Do it," John said, relieved. The pounding on the hatch was getting louder. "And can you check the crew complement, so we know how many Wraith are aboard?"

"Oh, you've done this before," Liam said, looking at him admiringly.

Rodney gave Liam a narrow-eyed look as he hit the intruder control, then answered John, "Unfortunately, I can't get into those systems at the moment." Something on the console flashed, and a weird wailing alarm cut in for an instant, before Rodney shut it down. The pounding on the hatch cut off abruptly. "There. They should be out now."

John rubbed his forehead, wincing as he found a developing bruise. It wasn't over yet. "Is there an airlock on this thing?" he asked.

Rodney grimaced and bent over the controls. "Good idea. Let's see."

"Why do we need an airlock when we're in space?" Liam asked, apparently serious.

Rodney sighed and covered his face with his hands, muttering, "I can't take this."

John regarded Liam for a long moment, then said, "The Wraith aren't actually dead, they're just sleeping. So we need to, you know...."

"Oh, I see." Liam nodded.

"Right." John stared at him, trying to figure out if Liam was just messing with them or was actually mentally ill. Or both. But then he was the most alien alien they had ever encountered, and maybe those definitions just didn't fit. He shook it off and said, "You got this, McKay?"

"What? Yes." Rodney waved a hand, absorbed in the console again. "Go take out the garbage."

"Seal the door after us," John told him.

"Oh, I'm going with you?" Liam asked, confused.

"God, don't let it turn into some sort of nightmarish Monty Python routine." Rodney clapped a hand over his eyes. "Yes, go with him!"

Wraith were heavy, and as luck would have it, most of them were on the opposite side of the ship from the airlock. After locating all of them and stunning them again to make sure they stayed unconscious, they quickly got into a routine -- drag, dump, close doors, flush -- and Liam was more help than John had expected. It figured though, that if the guy -- thing -- whatever had been farming with the Enarians, then he had to be used to hard work. The weird part was that every so often Liam lost a Wraith feature and replaced it with something from the blue alien with the external skeleton. It happened really fast, and never when John was looking at him.

When they went after the drones in the hold, the Enarians were starting to stir. "It's all right, it's just me!" Liam announced, and grew a tentacle out of his head to prove it. John nearly knocked himself unconscious slamming into a wall in his instinctive leap away.

Staggering around out in the corridor, John thought he heard Biel say, "Liam, are you all right? I thought--"

"I'm fine, Biel, really, don't mention it," Liam replied, seizing an unconscious drone by the ankle. He looked around for John. "Are you going to help with this? Why are you bleeding again?"

John didn't bother to answer. If the humans were waking from the stun, the Wraith wouldn't be far behind, and they were running out of time.

Finally they dumped and flushed the last drone, and Liam leaned against the wall near the airlock, looking like a very tired Wraith with suckers where its mouth should be and a few stray tentacles. "Are we done?"

"Yeah, we're done." John pushed off from the wall.

Liam did something and the rest of the Wraith form and the other alien parts just sloughed off, leaving a tall gangly human again, dressed in Enarian robes. He shook himself, wispy hair flying. "That's better."

John stared at him for a moment, thought, _freak out later_ and said, "Why don't you go help Rodney figure out how to fly the ship?"

Liam blinked. "Oh, right. We were doing that earlier, weren't we?" he said, wandering off.

John made a last quick sweep to make sure they had found all the Wraith, and opened a closed cubby to find their gear, the vests, weapons, and BDU jackets tossed atop an Auschwitz-like pile of discarded clothing in what was apparently a trash receptacle. He tried his radio first but it picked up nothing but static. Then he spotted more familiar dark gray near the top of the pile, and dug down to find a crumpled bundle of Teyla's jacket, pants, and the non-reg purple tank top thing she had been wearing that day.

In some bizarre way, it hadn't been real until then. John was running off too much adrenaline to feel his own injuries, and Rodney and Liam bitching hysterically at each other through the takeover had somehow made the whole thing more surreal than nightmarish.

This made it real. That they had, by a hair's breadth chance, escaped from the larder of an alien spaceship. And that maybe some of them hadn't escaped.

Breathing hard, he tore the pile apart but he couldn't find Ford's gear or clothes. That didn't necessarily mean anything. The Wraith hadn't had time to strip most of the Enarians and the weapons might be somewhere else.

John made himself take their weapons to the bridge first, where Liam was poking uncertainly at one of the consoles and Rodney was looking over his shoulder with an appalled expression. "I can't get weapons, communications, or sensors online," Rodney informed him, but didn't protest when John pulled him away and made him put his vest on, then clipped Teyla's P-90 to it. "Wait, this is Teyla's gun. She's here too? And Ford?" Rodney asked, his face white and strained in the weird light. "You think--?"

"I have to check the hold," John said, and left again.

In the main hold, the Enarians who had recovered from the stun were already pulling people out of the wall cocoons. John did a quick survey of the unconscious bodies still sprawled on the floor, then started on the wall cubbies. The Enarians stared at him as he moved along the rows, but nobody bothered him, though the P-90 probably had a lot to do with that. After a few minutes frantic search, he found Teyla still webbed up in a cubby in the largest section.

John realized later his brain must have gone offline for a time, because he didn't really remember anything about tearing away the webbing until he could see she was whole and unhurt, her face unaltered, no feeding mark on her chest. Then she was mostly free and he was dragging her out of the cubby, and she gasped and punched him in the chest hard enough to knock him back a step. John caught her wrists before she could hit him again. "Teyla, Teyla, it's me."

She got her eyes open and he saw recognition and awareness and profound relief, before she started to collapse. He lifted her up and she clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

When he carried her into the bridge, Rodney jumped down from the dais, rushing over to them. His face a mix of fear and relief, he asked, "Oh God, is she okay?"

"She's fine," John said, lowering her to the floor. She was dazed, half-conscious, shivering, dressed only in her underwear and still covered with the filthy webbing, but he knew what Rodney was really asking. "Take care of her, I have to look for Ford."

"Yes, yes, of course," Rodney said, and launched into a litany of reassurance and coaxing that got Teyla to let go of John and transfer her determined grip to him.

John went back to the hold first, searching it again, then the rest of the ship. He didn't find any live bodies outside the hold, just old corpses stuck in odd places. By the time he got back, the Enarians had everyone out of the cocoons, including some badly confused and frightened people who had apparently been in the ship since its last stop for supplies. Again, no one tried to stop John, no one said anything to him, and they avoided his eyes, hastily stepping out of his path. John figured his expression was communicating clearly what would happen to anybody who got in his way.

He checked the dead bodies again, the prematurely aged husks still trapped in the webbing. He used the P-90's light to illuminate the faces, making himself look carefully. It was nearly impossible to make out facial features, but he studied the remaining clothing and tried to see past desiccation and rot to guess at size, weight, and skin color. After a while he was certain none of them was Ford. He went back to the other end of the ship and checked the pile of clothes again, just in case he had missed something, but he still didn't find any part of Ford's gear or uniform. _Either they killed him on the planet, or he got away,_ John thought finally, leaning wearily against a rubbery wall. The radio still received nothing but static.

He went back to the bridge, sick of looking at dead people and dead people's belongings. Teyla was curled up on the floor asleep, her head pillowed on her arm, covered by a patchwork collection of BDU jackets, her clothes and an Enarian scarf-like garment. This time Rodney was working determinedly at the console and Liam was watching, scratching his fluffy head and looking as if things weren't going well. Biel was in the room now, sitting over on Liam's side of the room, watching worriedly.

As John came in, Rodney looked up, his preoccupied frown turning anxious. "Ford?"

"He's not on the ship." John sank unsteadily to the floor to sit beside Teyla, facing partly away from the dais so he had a view of Liam, Biel, and the door, cradling the P-90 in his lap.

Rodney was watching him, brow creased with worry. "But that's good. He's still on the planet, or he's back in Atlantis, getting help."

John shook his head, too tired to argue. He had already been over every possible scenario, and the bad ones outweighed the good. "They knew about the jumper, Rodney."

"Atlantis?" Liam looked at them incredulously. "You come from Atlantis? You know, if you people weren't so freakishly secretive--"

"Yes, right, and you've been in hiding for a century while passing for human, so you can shut up about our issues now," Rodney told him, and John thought it was a really good thing that Rodney was here to deal with Liam, because just shooting people that John found irritating was starting to seem like a much better idea than it actually was. Then a power bar bounced off John's chest and Rodney said, "Eat something. I made Teyla have some before she passed out; sugar is supposed to be helpful in cases of shock."

John shook his head, annoyed. "I'm not in shock."

"Please, your eyes are glazing over."

"Shut up and worry about getting us off the Wraith ship, Rodney."

Then Biel said carefully, "What is Atlantis?"

John smiled grimly to himself, gave Rodney the "just wait till I get you home" look, and tore the wrapper on the power bar.

"It's a city of the race commonly known to humans as the Ancestors or the Lantians." Liam leaned against the console, smiling. "I assume they peacefully explored it and decided to live there."

Biel shook her head, confused. "Why didn't you tell us this? It was because Liam saw that the flying ship you had was Lantian that he became suspicious and said we should not trust you."

Rodney signed and explained, "We've had incidents where people tried to steal our technology, or even to invade the city through our stargate. Most of it would be useless to them -- the Ancient technology requires a special gene only present in humans descended from Ancients, like the Major, here. But they refuse to understand that, and frankly, we're tired of being attacked, so we don't advertise the information."

John swallowed a mouthful of power bar. "Kind of like how you introduce Liam as your friend who came to you through the stargate, and not as the alien shapechanger who you provide with human DNA so he can hide from the Wraith."

"They've got us there," Liam contributed cheerfully.

"I see." Biel nodded.

"Frankly," Liam began, and John was pretty certain he wasn't going to want to hear this, "It was you people's behavior that initially made me suspicious. So stiltedly polite, and pretending interest in plows and other ridiculous things, and you," he told Rodney, "so obviously contemptuous of our decision not to pursue advanced technology and live in the mud and filth and like it and you, poppet," he pointed at John, "with the restrained, 'I'm so pretty, don't touch me' flirting. I much prefer your natural behavior, which is apparently to insult and threaten each other continuously. At least it's honest."

Rodney and John stared at each other, while Biel unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh. John said finally, "Okay, I should have let you call him an incompetent transvestite."

"What's a transvestite?" Liam asked.

***

Rodney and Liam worked steadily on the controls, and it was eerie to watch Liam's hands shift from large, boney, and very human to blue-gray Wraith skin whenever they needed to activate something. It was especially disturbing to see it happen so close to where Rodney was standing, and John kept instinctively tightening his grip on the P-90, even though he didn't think Liam would screw them over at this point. Or maybe at any point.

Rodney seemed fine, and apparently in his element, at least as long as the power bar supply held out. Liam, on the other hand, looked wilted and ill. Rodney had offered him a power bar, but Liam had waved it off with a, "Oh for the love of the Infinite, no."

"What, don't you eat?" Rodney asked suspiciously.

Liam sighed in exasperation. "Of course I eat; I don't farm for the entertainment of it. But I'd rather not describe what that stuff smells like to me."

Biel went out occasionally to report to the others, and several times a woman or a young man came in, cautiously, to speak to her. It was starting to be a struggle for John to stay awake, and every time he moved, he discovered a new ache or pain. He tried the radio at frequent intervals, but got nothing but static.

Finally, Teyla sat up in the nest of clothes, staring around the room in confusion. She ran a hand through her disordered hair, looking at the webbing on her fingers. "So it was not a nightmare." She looked down. "And I am almost naked." She lifted a brow at John, who smiled and said, "Hi."

"Look at it from my perspective," Rodney said from the console, "Now that I've seen your underwear, my fantasies will be much more accurate."

"There is more lace than I'd always pictured," John admitted.

"I will make you rue that comment later, Dr. McKay. And you, Major," Teyla eyed John critically, "I look forward to our next sparring session. Now help me find my shirt and tell me what has happened."

"Now there," Liam said, waving a hand, "That's what I like -- natural human behavior."

***

Finally, Rodney wiped the sweat off his brow, leaned on the console, and said, "All right, we still can't access most of the main systems, but this is what we can do. We've found a number of automatic subroutines, one of which allows for the entire contents of the hold -- the humans in storage -- to be beamed to another location. The coordinates for the field near the village are still in the system, so we can plug those in with no problem. The other issue we were working on was a way to prevent the Wraith from tying the disappearance of this ship specifically to the Enarians. Fortunately, Liam can clear the last automated log entries so it will look as if the ship never arrived here, and we can activate a subroutine that will initiate a timed jump into hyperspace. When the Wraith track it down, they won't have any idea what happened or where it happened. It'll be the Wraith version of the _Marie Celeste_."

"That would be ideal," Teyla said, listening intently. "If the Wraith thought the Enarians had anything to do with the death of this crew, they would cull the entire population."

John bit his lip, thinking it over. "We can't keep the ship?"

"Unfortunately not," Rodney admitted. "I can't turn off the transponders. Not without a lot of work and help, and every minute we stay here--"

"Increases the chance of another ship arriving," John finished. "Right, let's do that, then."

Biel pushed to her feet. "Liam? Should I--"

He made an airy gesture. "Yes, better tell the others what we plan to do, and gather everyone in the hold."

She hesitated, looking around at them all as if she wanted to say something, then she turned and hurried out.

Rodney watched her go, adding, "The problem is we'll be using the culling beam to transport ourselves down, so when we arrive, we'll be unconscious. And there's no telling how long we'll be out. The effects of two culling beam trips in less than twenty-four hours aren't going to be a picnic for anybody onboard."

"I won't be unconscious," Liam put in. "I'll be a puddle."

"Shockingly, Liam, not everything is about you." Rodney shook his head tiredly, and added, "If there were any Wraith left on the surface, we'll be helpless."

John scrubbed a hand through his hair. He really didn't like this, but there wasn't exactly a wide range of options. "Or the rest of the village could decide we're responsible for bringing the Wraith and kill us."

"There's always that," Rodney agreed grimly.

Liam stared at them. "You people just lead lives of quiet desperation, don't you? I've been a fugitive for six hundred years and I'm not that cynical."

"Then you're doing it wrong," Rodney told him.

Liam rolled his eyes. "I should only be a puddle for a few minutes. I'll hold off any retaliation by my violent Enarian compatriots. Of course, if there's Wraith, I'll be outnumbered and probably killed."

"Oh, good." John nodded mock-earnestly. "We feel better now."

***

They gathered in the hold, with the large group of Enarians and the few people who had been rescued from older cocoons on the ship.

While the others were milling around, John took the opportunity to pull Rodney aside, saying, "We need to make an alliance with Liam, so we can keep talking to him."

"If we live through this." Rodney rubbed his hands together nervously. "He knows things we've never even had hints of before. And the idea of another sentient alien species, allied with the Ancients, nearly wiped out by the Wraith--"

"And we still need the arum and the toba root," John pointed out.

"That too. Maybe you can talk him into helping us. He likes you." At John's expression, he added, "Oh, come on, he calls you 'poppet.'"

"He's an alien," John protested. "We don't know what that means."

"Please, what do you think it means?" Rodney took out the Wraith wrist control he had keyed to the bridge controls. "Let's get this over with."

They moved to the center of the hold, where Teyla joined them, giving Rodney a confident nod. The Enarians all looked hopeful and frightened and not likely to turn on their rescuers, but then these people would all be unconscious when they arrived on the surface. John didn't like it, but they didn't have any other choice.

"Are we ready?" Rodney looked around, and when no one objected, he took a deep breath and activated the remote. "We have one minute and counting."

"Well, this is going to be unpleasant," Liam said, fussing with his robe. "I hate losing cohesion."

Rodney eyed him, his mouth twisted. "So you're going to be a puddle? Why didn't you get a bucket or something to stand in?"

Liam glared at him. "You could have mentioned that earlier."

Then the hold dissolved in a haze of white light.

***

The shock of cold fresh air startled John into temporary consciousness. He was sprawled on chill wet ground, under a star-filled night sky, and this was the first breath he had taken in hours that wasn't heavy with death.

He tried to sit up but his body might as well have been an inanimate object. He could breathe, but the effort of expanding his lungs was taking everything he had.

Then something filled his vision and he focused on a young Enarian man, staring down at him and holding a club.

_Oh, no,_ John thought. Rodney and Teyla would be lying helpless right next to him and he couldn't protect them, couldn't even twitch his fingers. He managed to choke out, "Wait--" and the effort sent him under again.

***

John flinched awake the next time someone touched him, but this time it was Sergeant Stackhouse leaning over him. "...found them, Lieutenant," he was saying. "All three, warm and breathing. Wait, I think the Major's coming around."

John processed the fact that this was one of the Enarian huts, lit by warm candlelight. That he was lying on a pallet and Rodney was pressed against his side and breathing heavily in his ear, and the warm bundle under his other arm was Teyla. He managed to get a mostly numb arm free and held out a hand. Stackhouse put a headset in it and John got it over his ear and said, "Ford, report."

"Major, it's good to hear your voice!" Ford said enthusiastically.

John got the story from both Ford and Stackhouse as he was trying to climb out of the pallet. Ford had had an exciting day too. He had still been in the jumper when the sensors had picked up the first dart. He had tried to call them but the radio had already been jammed. Ford realized the Wraith must have spotted the jumper, so he cloaked it with his remote and left, heading back to the village to try to warn them. He had nearly run into a small party of drones, obviously searching for the jumper, and ended up having to go to ground in the forest. When the darts had left, he avoided the jumper's position and returned to the gate, killed the drone guarding the DHD, and dialed into Atlantis for backup. Stackhouse and Bates had brought their teams through with two more cloaked jumpers, and they had spent the rest of the afternoon and evening hunting down the Wraith remaining in the area, rescuing the trapped jumper, and looking for their lost personnel. They had wondered why the ship that the jumper's sensors registered as still in orbit failed to send down any darts to help the Wraith on the ground, and had been hoping that was a good sign.

They had been cautiously approaching the ship when it had suddenly broken orbit and jumped away. Ford said they thought that was it, that John and the others were lost, until the ground team reported the appearance of a transport beam near the village right before the ship had vanished.

The villagers had gotten to the transport site first, and there had been a delay while the Atlantis teams tried to figure out exactly what had come down in the beam. When they made contact with the village, the Enarians agreed to let Stackhouse and Yamato come in to look for their lost people.

By the time John made it upright, Rodney was starting to make grumbling noises indicating that he was about to wake up, and Teyla had rolled over and pulled a pillow over her head. Their weapons were piled neatly in a corner. There were several more pallets in the hut, all occupied by unconscious Enarians. "Stay with McKay and Teyla," John told Yamato.

He made it out of the hut with Stackhouse trailing him, saying, "Sir? Do you think you should sit down?"

"Obviously not," John told him. The night air was clear and cold, the village street was torchlit, and there were a lot of people staggering around in about the same shape as John.

Anoch, the village elder, was standing by the fountain, keeping semi-conscious people from falling in.

John reached him and said, "Anoch, where's Liam?"

"Oh, he's in there." Anoch turned John around and pointed him toward a hut across the street. "Biel's with him. He isn't doing well."

"What, is he still a puddle?" John asked, ignoring the worried look Stackhouse was giving him.

"No, he's just not doing well." Anoch winced. "It's nothing we hadn't expected, it's just happening a bit faster."

John made it to the hut and leaned in the doorway.

It was a homely little room, with woven hangings on the walls and grass mats on the dirt floor. And there was something lying on the single bed that looked like a structure made of fireflies and gossamer.

Stepping closer, John could see there were actually things that looked like sinew and blood vessels, but all of it was wispy, impossibly delicate. He had thought Liam's real appearance might be the blue alien with the exterior skeleton, but this made far more sense. Rodney had said Liam was probably rearranging matter around his body, and this looked a lot more like something that could do that. John looked at Biel, who was sitting on a stool near the bed, and asked, "Can he talk?"

She shook her head sadly. "Not in any way we can understand."

"We have a doctor. He knows about aliens-- At least, aliens in general--"

"That is kind, but I don't know if he could do anything to help. It is just that Liam is very old." Biel pointed carefully, and John saw the delicate strands of light had gone dim in places, that some of the traceries of blood vessels or whatever they were had shriveled and dried. John gave Stackhouse a nod, and the sergeant stepped outside to relay the request to Ford.

Biel explained, "He was old when he first came to us, long before I was born. And some years ago he told us that he would not be able to change as he had before. He said he had reached a point where each transformation cost him body mass and energy that there was no way to replace. He said it was simply the way of his species, how they aged and died." Her voice thickened for a moment and she cleared her throat. "He used up almost all he had left helping us."

John sank down on another stool. He thought of how Liam kept dropping pieces of his Wraith disguise, randomly growing tentacles. The moments of weakness and what must have been flashes of senility. "That's why he was so...erratic."

"Sometimes he forgets." She admitted, with a faint smile, "Sometimes he only pretends to forget, so he can say outrageous things."

Rodney stumbled in and sat down heavily on the grass mat. He frowned at Liam's alien form. "He doesn't look healthy. Did we send for Carson?"

John nodded. "He should be here soon."

The creature of light on the bed shifted and suddenly Liam lay there, in his old human form. He sat up suddenly and said, "That's better."

Biel said, startled, "Liam, you said you wouldn't change again."

"Yes, but that's so boring, and there's no point to it." His skin was gray and his eyes were glassy. Instead of a dying alien, he looked like a dying human. It took him a moment to focus on John, and he said, "Poppet, I'd give you the gate address to my planet, but I can't remember it now, and besides, I don't think there's anything useful left there. When you sneak onto hive ships and blow them up, the Wraith get very testy." Liam told Biel, "Give Rodney all my little tools. Some of them stopped working, and they aren't all Lantian. I think it's the batteries. And we're going to trade with them, aren't we?"

"Yes," Biel said hastily, tears in her eyes. "Yes, we are."

Liam said, "That's good," and turned back into the creature of light and gossamer. It faded away slowly, and collapsed into a pile of metallic dust.

***

They headed for the jumpers before morning, with a trading agreement and a promise to return to visit soon.

  
**end**


End file.
